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Bea Aguilar Dec 2020
Count the days
Before it begins
The most sought-after event
That we all await

It's the first day of December
But it's not Christmas that I refer

Starting today,
Count all the days
When you give and give
Even to those who forget

Proven and tested,
It will return to you
It will be more than what they received
More than you asked and view
d Sep 2020
They say that in the final 30 seconds of your life, you see either the  best moments, or the entire thing flash before your eyes. I couldn't really differentiate between the two;
Thirty. One of the most memorable performances of my life, the day you caught my eye from amongst the crowd. Twenty-seven. That day my friends and I hung out at the pool and laughed so much that I nearly died. Twenty-three. When we were at your place and I cut and colored my hair, all in your bathroom sink. Fifteen. All of us, sleep deprives, but lazily singing and dancing on the pavement nonetheless because school was out. Eleven. My hands hold yours. Your lips hold mine. Six. The final sunset I'd ever witness. Three. Your eyes. Zero.
I've been watching the clock
daydreaming of us holding each other,
the sun in our eyes and the bright blue skies,
the smell of the grass and the white noise of chatter,
the wind sending us cold kisses on our cheeks and
whirling your chestnut brown hair,
the way your lips curl with your charming smile
and the way your eyes sparkle melts my soul,
I've craved feeling your skin against mine,
your touch that sends me to the highest of places
as our fingers interlace gently,
your lips pressed to mine as I can feel
how much we've missed each other, passionate yet tender
and every nerve in my body sends into this rush of longing for you
and here, all I want is to stay in your arms a little longer,
stare into each other's eyes a little longer,
I want us to just stay at this moment for a little longer
but for now, you're alive but only in my mind
missing you extra hard every single time
waiting till I see you again
counting down the seconds till I can.
lockdown thoughts got me missing and craving for intimate moments and I've been imagining when I'm finally in your arms again
I finally have permission…

To write bad poetry this month
                        no extraneous commitments dictated

To grow a beard all week
                        no vain pretense required

To ring my mum to-night
                        no after-work drinks mandated

To sleep in an hour
                        no daily commute demanded

To contemplate a minute
                        no ‘time wasting’ reprimanded

To breathe just one second
                        no productivity quota commanded
Always look to the upside - If it wasn't for this pandemic I'd probaly never have started writing poetry. Good news for me, maybe not so much for you poor reader!
Zack Ripley Feb 2020
My stomach churns as I get ready to fly away.
Adrenaline rises as I hear a voice say...5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Then my rocket blasts off
toward the milky way.
Before I know it, 2 days have gone by. And as I look out the window,
I can't help but cry.
Because floating in the moonlight, even though I'm all alone
in a sea of stars,
it really hits home how small and connected we really are.
vanessa ann Mar 2020
i’m a year to twenty.
soon to be twenty-one,
twenty-two, twenty-three,
twenty four, and suddenly halfway to fifty;
when life gets a little more busy,
perhaps with a few kids running around,
and god forbid—my breath smelling like whisky.

then i’d turn sixty,
hopefully still as witty
and my tongue just as filthy.

and perhaps by then,
i’d gladly sell my kidney,
because it’s no biggie,
really,
if it means god takes pity
and returns me back to my fifties,
forties,
thirties,
twenties,
teen-ties.
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2019
Dreams of fir trees
Candy canes
Dancing Christmas lights
Gingerbread houses
Mistletoe
And presents wrapped tight
Santa Claus with his sleigh and reindeer
Each merry day that passes brings Christmas more near
A little holiday poem for yall
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